Archive for (sigh)

Me and the velociraptor – the results

Me versus a velociraptor as we are both chained to a bunk bed:

I could survive for 1 minute, 35 seconds chained to a bunk bed with a velociraptor

Created by Bunk Beds.net


And me versus a velociraptor if I had a crowbar:

46%

Top that suckers!

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Hiding things from myself

I’m hiding from things again, I have all the tell tale signs: devoid of emotions, oblivious to the facts and blindsided by the truth that was sitting there all along. Blindsided. The shit is so obvious, yet somehow I manage to be the only one that doesn’t know…

It’s not fair, it’s not fair-

And still I can’t admit, I can’t admit my emotions and can only hedge around because these emotions are at my disgusting root, my disgusted self and my indistinguishable anguish that is abandonment. This is the sap on my trunk, these are notches on a stock, I am going on about truth and analysis when all I want is you.

But you want what you can’t have!

The sense is leaving me, the sense doesn’t make. I’m tragically twisted into 3-D shapes that lift me off the canvas, magically – and he gets sing-songy when he’s scared, further distancing to a place that seems more sensical with its nonsensical manners. We pick apart the legions, toast the world and supersede our powers of good. I’m gonna miss what I never had.

And how do you mourn what you never lost, do you keep that all inside because it was a product of your mind? This is the first and great Commandment and the second is like unto it, “Thou shall love the neighbor as thyself”. On these two commandments hang all the law of the prophets. But these words are proof of the thing that I avoid.

My throat is closing

And there you go again, down that road, down that rabbit hole and away, flying as fast as the neurons will carry me, away. How can a single soul be so important to me that I can see no other? This is the fervor of God, these are the greedy capitalists, I am the most high – and why are you saving my feelings. Stop saving my feelings, stop feeding my soul, stop being so special and fit the mold. Let me dismiss you.

Feel it, feel it.

Patterns make no sense. I’m a covetous being, I attach with a soldering iron. Permanent. The less sense it makes the more I hurt.

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This is depression

I want to go to more social things where I get to be around straight girls and guys and where people are having fun and all of a sudden I want to cry…

I hate this world, hate it so much, why would it do this to me all the time, not fair, 33 years of loneliness and pain all of it unending all of it a pit of despair with no end in sight – in the last few weeks, I have approached over 40 on line persons. Not one has even written me back.

A tool for others to exploit and have been all my life, only there for what I can do. I hate this world and have since i could remember – and as if on cue, they make a pot of fucking coffee and they walk back to their fucking offices, not drinking it, letting it burn on the fucking burner.

FUCK you Universe
FUCK you.

This world and everyone in it can’t stand me and I don’t blame them, maybe nobody wants to be around me and maybe I cant have close friends that i go play with; maybe I’m too much.

Scattered

And I’m actually asking for help, no more metaphors – people really do hate me, with good reason, they like me better when I’m far away because I am too much and don’t know how to change that. It just keeps happening at different junctures of my life where I find out some enormous revelation like this and it is such a smack in the face. Talk about cognitive dissonance: to want to be with people but to be so mean that they cant be around you – kinda creepy in its self-fulfilling sense.

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This is my head, this is my chest…

What is this feeling, what are these tingles, these chills, these twinges. I want to run as fast as I can, so fast that I actually leave my body and burst out one side of this bag o’ bones and go floating across whatever there is that isn’t here. I want to float into the 80 degree sky and keep going until that fucking body below hits the ground and writhes in agony and then stops twitchin’. Yes, that’s what I want, that’s what I need; a little bit of separation from what ails me because what ails me is me.

I want to dampen the sounds in my head with a mallet. Maybe one of those rubber mallets that won’t leave too much of a mark and won’t necessarily start bleeding but can jar some sense loose like my dad used to do.

I can still hear the ringing in my ears from the one time by the back door when he whacked you from behind.

I am and have been depressed all of my life and as it is impossible to actually separate mind and body must address both but am convinced that without the logical mind, non of this would have happened depression-wise. That little boy’s mind was brilliant yet naive. This depression was always a way of looking at things and as it turns out could be fixed by using simple logic and second guessing bad logic.

For example – Horizons. Everyone loves the horizon, especially at sunset or sunrise when the sinking/rising sun casts odd shadows, weird hues and a kaleidoscope of colors…I mean what on Earth could you find depressing, right? Well, I did, I always saw the darkness that comes after sunset to be the sad and so the sunset brought sense of foreboding and dread. Why? Wish I could tell you, but that 8 year old that made these rules knows why and I’m not sure it makes much sense.

Remember that time on that drift fishing boat? After the sun set the eastern sky took that light blue-grey hue that seemed so worrisome. Remember that you made the association.

Another example of my depression comes from love – separation anxiety. I never learned how to enjoy my free time and not be afraid to be alone. In every relationship I have ever had, I find that when the person leaves to go home or do their own thing it’s like getting kicked in the stomach. The fear starts prematurely, unconsciously as I start fights or start to bicker all in attempt to not let go. From there I go to a bit of panic to full blown anxiety – and that’s before the person has left. And the really bad part is that when they are there, I am usually thinking how nice it would be to be alone.

Remember how we would come home from that absolute hellish version of school we attended? Always alone, always on your own and nobody to help you when others wanted to hurt you…

And the more of this stuff I fix – I now love sunsets and horizons – the more that comes to the surface, the more of it I see and have to fix. And it makes me all the more impatient to rid myself of these mis-perceptions and find the truth that can make me fully happy.

And I’m often filled with contentment that comes crashing down and I am back to beating off the trappings that my 8 year old created. I’d really like to go back to then, knowing what I know now and help mold that little boy in a way where I’m not having to tear down my entire life in my mid-30ies, just to keep from killing myself.

And on I trudge, through the mis-perceptions that are me, trying to right the wrongs that never should have been and don’t really exist. And I will not hit me, I will trash me, I will not abandon myself when I most need my own support. I will work all of this out, i will work all of this out.

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Frequenting the same places

Running against that wind that always comes up because it does what it does and I’m not running anymore, not running any more to do and away from everything that made anything less than anything away…No wait-

I’m sorry, I’m not here, here, let me make it up to you, let me make it up to you, let me make it up to you this way, I’m not saying let me make it up but let me make it up to you and you can stay and stay.

Come to me, with me, to me and you can come to me and we can be together so, come to me with open arms and come to me with open eyes and come to me means not just come to me but come to me with me for me.

And start presenting it that way, you presented it that way and presents or presence or prescient but presenting it that way just presents it that way and so it presents it some way that I’m unaware of…

And we’ll carry on and carry on and carry on cause that is what we’ll do too, carry on. You carry on and on and on about things but start working things out because that is what we do; that is what we do when we do what we do.

And I’ve stopped running it this way, running this this way, a way, another way than the way that we’d been doing it all before, the way we’d been running things and now we’re running things this way and nothing ever more.

Posted in (sigh), Poetry | Comments Off on Frequenting the same places

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